by Finley Aaron
“It’s not anything like that,” Henry assured his father. “She wants her brother freed.”
The king looked confused. “My dungeons are empty.”
Ella rushed to explain. “He’s being held in the dungeon of the old Roman fortress at Devin, on charges of illegal importation of goods. He is a merchant. His carts have been impounded, his horses confiscated and possibly killed—”
King Henry scowled. “Devin. Every time I hear news out of Devin, it is worse.”
Prince Henry added, “If we could free Ella’s brother and bring his carts of goods back to Charmont, the city would celebrate the return of silks and spices to the markets.”
“Your brother’s carts are full of silks and spices?” the king clarified.
“They were at the time they were confiscated,” Ella assured him. “Considering what I’ve heard of the number of carts impounded, I doubt anyone at Devin has had time to empty them.”
“Devin is not that far,” the king mused. “It’s on the Danube. You could sail there in ten days—less than that if we set men to the oars.”
“Assuming the river is navigable for its entire course,” Ella noted. “It’s early July now. The river often becomes too shallow for ships by mid-July or August.”
The king looked at her open-mouthed for a moment. “And how would you know that?”
“My father was a merchant. I traveled with him extensively from the age of nine. I’ve sailed the Danube and visited Devin. The fortress itself is daunting—situated on cliffs over a furlong high overlooking the river, with the Carpathian Mountains to the east. The castle is nearly impregnable.”
“Yes,” the king agreed, his tone both stunned and musing. “Indeed. Devin is nearly impossible to attack, even with an army ten times the size of mine, which is largely why, in spite of the problems we’ve faced with the trade embargo, I’ve chosen to approach the city only with delegations, and never with arms. But perhaps,” the king strummed his fingers on a tabletop thoughtfully, “perhaps the time has come.”
Prince Henry grinned. “We’ve had rain of late, and last winter gave us heavy snows. The white caps are still melting from the mountains. If we hurry, the Danube will get us there, which will save us time and save our horses.”
“I’m less concerned about getting my men there, and more concerned about getting them home again.” King Henry scowled. “That’s the problem Lady Ella’s brother encountered, isn’t it?”
Both Henry and Ella nodded.
The king continued. “Now, who do we have who can identify this brother of yours—what’s his name?”
“Robert. He goes by Bertie.”
“Bertie of Caprese.” The king nodded sharply. “All right then, who can identify him? I’m not sending in a team to pull a man from prison only to have them come back with the wrong man.”
Ella looked at Henry. She had her mouth open, ready to speak, but she wasn’t sure what she should say.
“I have met him,” Henry said.
“Met him?” King Henry’s eyes narrowed. “Do you know him well enough to recognize him, half-starved and dirty, in the dark hole of a dungeon? You realize you can’t just go in there and ask around, ‘who’s Bertie?’ Every man in that hole will claim to be him if they think there’s any chance you might spring them free.”
Ella paused. She wanted to go, of course, but she was certain the king would never approve—he’d more likely cancel the entire plan if she pushed too far. And anyway, she didn’t need his permission. She was fully prepared to secretly slip onto a ship without anyone knowing there was a woman among them.
But that still left the need for a man to identify Bertie.
“Gustav Adessi has been Bertie’s tutor for over seven years. He’s traveled with him extensively. He can identify him.”
“Gustav Adessi, the famous swordsman?” King Henry clarified.
Ella nodded.
“I—I tried to hire him to teach my son,” the king sputtered. “But he was off traveling with some—oh! B-but—Gustav Adessi must be eighty years old by now.”
“Quite nearly,” Ella admitted. “But he’s as spry as ever, and I don’t doubt he’d insist on going if he knew a trip was being planned. He was beyond upset to hear of my brother’s imprisonment. He’s staying with us at Caprese. You can reach him there.”
“All right then, fine,” the king agreed. “Sailing down the Danube won’t tax him much, I don’t suppose. We’ll need to have him fetched from Caprese, and I agree, the ships must sail posthaste. Let’s get this planned tonight. I’ll call in my military advisors—”
“But not Uncle Richard, nor Cousin Richard, either,” Prince Henry insisted.
The king paused and looked his son up and down. “You still don’t trust them?”
“I could offer you a thousand proofs to their lack of allegiance, but we’ve got more important matters to discuss. Perhaps you could just trust me.”
“Fine.” King Henry pinched his lips together. “I can pull off a military exercise without my brother’s knowledge. Now, why don’t the two of you get back to the dance—”
“I need to be part of this discussion, Father.”
“The ball is more important. It’s being thrown in your honor.”
“The entire purpose of the ball was so that I might find a bride. I’ve found her.” Henry beamed at Ella for a long moment, then continued, “But she won’t be my bride unless we rescue her brother.”
“I’m having him rescued, I assure you.”
“I intend to oversee his rescue.”
The king grew visibly flustered. “Whatever do you mean? I can plan the rescue as well as anyone. You needn’t bother about it.”
“I am going on the ships to Devin.”
“Don’t be silly,” the king protested, though he didn’t sound sincerely surprised. “This is a dangerous mission. I’m not going to put you in harm’s way.”
“The mission is not that dangerous, and I promise to take every precaution to secure my own safety. Frankly, I shall be safer cruising down the Danube than I am at tournament.”
King Henry scowled, but in his kingly wisdom, he seemed to realize he could not support an argument against his son’s claims. “I’d prefer you not go.”
“You’d also prefer me to marry.” Henry let his words settle upon their own weight.
The king frowned. “Fine. You may go. But let’s get this planned so we can have you there and back. I’ll call for my military advisors—”
The prince named off those men who he trusted to advise them without reporting anything to Richard. It was a small group that assembled around the table. Maps were brought in, as well as food and drink.
Ella hovered quietly in the background, but did not draw any attention to herself for fear they might try to dismiss her. Once or twice, when the others seemed at a loss for a solution to various aspects of their plan, Ella murmured a suggestion to the prince, and he proposed it. These were universally well-received, and seemed to raise Henry’s esteem somewhat in the eyes of the men—which was key for the prince, because the seasoned knights looked upon young Henry as though he were still a child.
As she hovered, Ella snacked on the sumptuous foods that had been brought in, which was the first thing she’d had to eat since the berries along the stream. She circled round the others, noting their plans, and paid especial attention to the maps on the table. None of those for the region of Devin or further downstream parts of the Danube showed much detail. She had maps at home that showed more roads, streams, and bridges.
The plan was made to set sail on the Danube first thing in the morning in three days’ time, which was the earliest they could feasibly reach port from Charmont. They needed to leave as soon as possible in order to make the most of the recent rains, and avoid the shallower waters of the dry later summer season, which might run the ships aground. Plans were established for talking with the officials at Devin, and urging them to release select prisoners. Failing that, the
men discussed their options for breaking Bertie out of the dungeon.
It was known that old Roman fortresses were equipped with iron shackles, which fit to one of only a very few styles of keys. One of the men who had knowledge of these types of keys was given the task of acquiring as many keys as he could bring, that they would be prepared to unlock the shackles that held Bertie.
Another notable impediment was the sheer cliff upon which the fortress was built. There were roads accessible from some distance, but those would doubtless be guarded. The cliffs were themselves considered the most secure feature of the fortress, and as such, historically were only guarded at the top, near the entrance to the fortress.
The cliffs seemed insurmountable, but some of the military advisors insisted strong men equipped with longbows could shoot an arrow much further than a furlong, and with a crossbow, could shoot a full furlong and a half. They suggested archers could shoot ropes to the top of the cliff, and then soldiers could climb up.
This gave rise to a lengthy discussion about how the ropes would reduce the distance the arrows could be shot, and whether severely barbed arrowheads would hold better in the rock, and whether horizontal shooting distances were at all comparable to vertical, and whether, as some maintained, it wouldn’t be far simpler and safer to go around via the steep hills to either side of the cliffs, and take their chances with the guards.
The military advisors talked for hours, until a page stepped in and murmured something to the king, who looked startled and took Henry aside.
“It’s nearly midnight, and you’ve been away from the ball nearly all the night. Do take Lady Ella out there and dance a bit more.”
Seeing that the bulk of the planning had already been accomplished, Henry agreed readily.
Ella hurried to join him. “How close to midnight is it?” she asked, startled to learn that the evening had passed so quickly.
“Eight minutes to the hour,” Henry offered, pointing to a hall clock just ahead of them.
Ella noted the time, and hoped she could make a quick exit once they’d finished a dance or two. “Let’s do hurry to dance for the people,” she urged.
They took to the floor as the orchestra finished a song. There was a great murmur through the crowd, but before the orchestra began to play, a trumpeter blew a long formal blast, and a herald stepped forward.
“Prince Henry of Charmont has made his choice. Lady Ella of Caprese has agreed to be his bride!”
A great cheer went up from the crowd.
Ella blushed a furious red. She’d had no idea there was going to be an announcement made, and she wished the orchestra would get playing so she could finish her dance before her ball gown turned back into a stained and tattered cotton dress.
Thankfully, after only a moment’s further awkwardness, the first strains of music began, and Henry swept Ella into a dance.
Henry had seen Ella blush, and rushed to apologize. “I didn’t realize there was going to be an announcement, or I’d have warned you.”
“I didn’t mind,” she assured him. “I just didn’t know what I was supposed to do—if I should wave or curtsy or—”
“Just smile, that’s all. You did perfectly.”
Ella beamed back at him. They danced so well together, Ella hardly had to think about the steps. She simply let the music and Henry’s steady hand guide her as she resolved to enjoy her last few minutes of the ball.
A mellow gonging sound carried over the music.
“What’s that?” Ella asked, recognizing the sound of the castle clock striking midnight, though according to the clock they’d passed in the hall, it shouldn’t have sounded for another few minutes.
“The clock striking midnight.” The sound came again as Henry spoke.
“Already? The hall clock—”
“It tends to run a bit slow.”
Ella froze for one terrified half-second, but the third gong sent her moving. “I’ve got to go,” she called over her shoulder as she fled quickly toward the stairs.
The crowd didn’t seem to know what to make of her sudden movement. The first people she encountered looked so stunned, they simply stepped back out of her way, letting her through. But by the time Ella reached the hall above, a fourth gong had sounded, and Raedwald and his father had moved to block the hallway, along with several guards.
Ella instantly realized she’d never make it out the front way, not with the guards blocking her path.
But she had to go somewhere. Henry had gotten over his momentary surprise and, with the clock striking a fifth time, he took the stairs two at a time after her.
Ella spun on her heel.
Now, I don’t really understand what happened just then. Perhaps it was the magic going soft in those last breaths just before midnight. Or perhaps glass slippers obey their own rules, which are different from those of the rest of the world. Whatever it was, one of the glass slippers, which had fit Ella perfectly up to that moment, suddenly slipped loose from her foot, so that as she hurried to make her escape, it stayed behind as the clock struck again.
She realized her foot was bare one step later, but didn’t even take the time to look back. Instead she darted down a hallway, having little idea where she was headed. She’d have happily rushed down the stairs, but those that led downward were off to one side and were blocked by waiters bringing more food up from the kitchen, and the clock struck again as she ran past them.
Ahead of her were only stairs going up, which were guarded by a pair of startled men who appeared to have been half-asleep on their feet moments before, and now found themselves suddenly approached by a frantic-looking young woman in a ball gown as the clock struck an eighth time.
“Excuse me,” Ella called as she approached, and hoped they’d step out of her way.
Perhaps it was the prince running after her, calling to her to wait (he’d paused just long enough to scoop up her glass slipper, or he’d likely have caught up to her already), or maybe it was the throng of guards flocking behind the prince, or just as likely the guards were under orders not to let any guests through, no matter how lovely. Whatever their reasons, as the clock struck its ninth gong, the two guards crossed their lances, barring her way.
No doubt they did not expect much resistance from the delicate-looking dance guest. Whatever the case, when Ella swept her forearms wide in front of her, she pushed aside the lances. The guard on her right was easily overpowered and stumbled backward, unsteady on his feet, but the one on her left pushed back, so that she had to sweep his feet out from under him in order to get past.
Ella charged up the stairs. In the time it took for the pair of guards to recover, she’d made the first turn and mounted the second half of the flight of stairs as the clock struck a tenth time.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
As Ella neared the top of the flight of stairs, in spite of the darkness of the unlit second floor, she saw ahead of her a familiar sight.
The throne room.
Of course it would not be too far from the ballroom.
Ella sprinted as the clock struck again. She ran, not toward the throne room itself, but toward the little door that led to the stairs to the kitchen.
The guards who stood before the empty throne room must have assumed she was going to attempt to pass them to reach the throne room, because instead of running toward her, they crossed their lances to bar her entry.
The twelfth gong struck as Ella ducked through the little door, and I flew along behind her as she ran down the steps. Her gown dissolved into the ratty old cotton dress, and her hair flew back into its old simple braid sitting in a single swirl atop her head.
She reached the kitchen and peeked out the door. Distant voices echoed through the room.
“Who’s running away?”
“The lady the prince picked as a bride.”
“She’s running away with him?”
“No, she’s running from him.”
“Why would anyone want to do that? He’s the ni
cest royal I ever met.”
The voices seemed to carry from further and further away, so that the last bit wasn’t even clear enough to hear for certain. No doubt the excitement of Ella’s unexpected flight had traveled through the entire castle, and everyone had gone to see what was happening.
With no one left in the kitchen to spot her, Ella ducked through to the door to the tunnel, and hurried to the first fork in the path.
There she paused, panting, and debated which way she should go.
Her coach would be a pumpkin by that time, and the horses, mice, and the driver would have turned back into a dog. She didn’t care to ever see the mice or pumpkin again, and the dog could undoubtedly find its way home with little trouble.
But Mirage would no longer be a footman. Mirage would be a horse, and Ella would not leave her dear mare alone and confused at the castle.
Ella followed the branch of tunnel that led to the stables. She ducked her head around the opening and peered into the space beyond.
The stables were a bustling hive of activity. Voices were shouting and it took only a moment for us to gather that guards were being dispatched on horseback to search for the missing girl, though no one knew where to look for her.
Ella ducked back into the tunnel, out of sight. “Fairy Godmother, do you think you can find Mirage?”
“If she’s anywhere near here, I can find her. You stay out of sight.” I flew off in search of the horse, who I found looking quite confused next to a dog and a pumpkin, among a vast row of chariots.
“Mirage.” I grew just large enough to be heard when I flew inside her ear. “Follow me.”
The horse was just stunned enough not to question my command. I flew ahead of her and she followed me to the back of the stables. The dog, probably for want of some better plan, followed us.
Ella peeked out and saw us coming. She’d wrapped a cloth over her head and tied it under her chin, so that it covered most of her face. When she saw us coming, she ran over, and took hold of Mirage’s bridle. She led the mare out of the barn, keeping well-hidden in the horse’s shadow.
